


Darling, Everything's On Fire

by Bells_Hunt



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: BDSM Undertones, Dom Alec Lightwood, Jace deserves better and Alec is going to give it to him, M/M, Self Harm, Sub Jace Wayland, blood mention, jace pov, jalec - Freeform, torture mention, warnings for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 13:13:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22296520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bells_Hunt/pseuds/Bells_Hunt
Summary: Alec and Jace are raised in the Circle, Jace’s training in torture is intensified ten fold into his teen years, as Valentine tries break his soul, and only Alec keeps him from going insane, with the blood in his hands. Together, they advance the Circle into the winning side, and become the terror of the Clave and the Downworld, but Alec is determined to keep Jace from destroying himself, even if he has to betray everything he knows to do so.
Relationships: Alec Lightwood/Jace Wayland
Kudos: 43





	Darling, Everything's On Fire

**Author's Note:**

> This is a drabble for an RP that I wrote about two years ago and I wanted to post it here. I hope you like it!

Jace’s closed eyes fluttered gently with his soft breath, the leather under his cheek a comforting smell grounding his floating consciousness. He had been on his knees for hours now and the wooden floor was carving creases on his skin even through his gear, but he couldn’t feel it. There was a permanent line of goose bumps drawing the shape of his spine, from his nape down to the waist of his pants, and his lips were lightly parted, letting out warm, long, breaths, against the strong thigh muscle that held his head safe. His hands were scraped raw, closed on his lap, and smelled like sanitizer, though to his own nostrils the smell was much fouler, more bitter and salty still, and the redness more than scraped off skin to his own eyes. There was a light shudder down his body at the thought, but comparatively smaller to the consecutive ones he’d been having before, even after _his_ strong hands pushed him down to the ground just as his knees had given up.

The hand on his hair stopped, then tugged hard enough to make him gasp, before continuing to run through it with renewed effort and Jace’s shoulders slumped down again. He whined almost with no sound at all, but was answered quickly with a firm shushing noise and the hand not on his hair slipped to his throat and held it — just enough strength to make him feel the pressure, and his heartbeat slowed down again. There was still reminiscent guilt, even as he accepted, and eagerly gobbled down every ounce of comfort he was being given. Not even _he_ could squash down all of it. Jace pressed his lips tighter against the leather and breathed the strong scent in, to try and erase from memory the smell of too much blood and every other thing he’d been made a master at extracting from humanoid bodies. _Never clean, never clean_.

_ “You’re being so good for me.” _

Jace moaned as the dark voice ran over him like all of his body was being caressed at once. He opened his eyes for the first time in hours, and it was a little disorienting at first, though they quickly found a focus spot on incredible shades of blue. His face was blushed with pleasure but there was lingering doubt in his hazed over gold gaze, and the hand on his throat tightened, making him moan again.

_ “So good.” _

He insisted, he always did, sometimes for hours until Jace could believe it. He closed his eyes again for a moment, and when he reopened them, they were lighter than before, but there must had been something still pleading about his expression, because next thing he knew, Alec was bending over and pressing their mouths together. Alec knew the gentlest ways to douse Jace in the possessiveness he knew made his heart sing, and it did on his ears as Jace received the kiss like a sacred sip from the Mortal Cup, brows furrowed as though even just that was almost too much. He didn’t realize he was clinging to his jacket, until Alec pulled away and carefully coaxed his hands to let go.

Jace stood there panting, as his calloused fingers traced worried patterns over his harmed skin, but Jace didn’t wince, he never did. He turned his palms up, and did the same there, and Jace felt his body slow down as if waiting for something.

_ “Stay.” _

Alec got up and Jace bit on his cheeks not to let out a sound, though by the time he got back his still raised hands were stiff, and Alec took hold of them as soon as he sat back down, making Jace breathe.

_ “I’m going to take care of them, and when I’m done, they will be perfectly clean, got it?” _

Jace nodded when his stern gaze fell on him, unsure if he could already speak, and grateful when Alec didn’t push him to. Alec picked up the gauze, doused it in saline and then he started to press it over Jace’s inflamed skin with complete focus.

He lost track of how many pieces of gauze and minutes Alec used, and by the time he started to rub in the salve in, his mind had started to drift pleasantly again. Alec carefully bandaged his hands, from wrists to palms, and when he was done, he brought each one to his lips and planted passionate kisses on each of his fingers, knuckles and pads. _Those that had taken so many lives._ When he finished, Jace’s heart was speeding again, and there was nothing but open gratitude in his eyes as he looked up at him. Alec bent over and brought him to his lap. Jace resisted the urge to bury his face on his neck, to marvel at his face from up close, and Alec traced every line on his own, as he gazed back.

_ “Better?” _

He sighed. “Yes.” His voice was rough from lack of use, but Alec didn’t seem to mind when the tone was finally honest. Jace was kissed again, and wondered not for the last time, when had the Angel thought he deserved such a gift.

He did press his nose and lips and face against the warm, stubble covered skin on Alec’s neck, as he was let go to breathe, and was rewarded by the return of the long strong fingers on his hair. They stayed like that until Jace couldn’t tell them apart anymore, and the caress was all he was aware of. When Alec spoke, he was almost startled to realize he wasn’t sleeping.

_ “Tomorrow. During the Paris mission. We’re getting out of here.” _

He pulled back to look at him, but as Alec held his eyes in his own, he couldn’t remember why they shouldn’t, or find a protesting word to say. He could feel the part of his brain that was the leader, the soldier, the killer, the Hand of God, trying to rise up, but the decisiveness in Alec’s words washed it back out.

_ “This ends. Tomorrow.” _

Jace pushed himself forward and up and pressed his lips as tight as he could against Alec’s shoulder, wrapping arms around his neck, and Alec held him back. He wished he had ever learned to say the words, but he hoped his heartbeat against Alec’s was enough of a speech. If this was going to terrify him in the morning there was no space for it now. Alec’s lips were soft against his ear, just enough to make him shudder again, but there was no disgust left. 

He couldn’t remember when he fell asleep, but he woke up the next morning on his bed, with Alec’s expanding chest on his back, and his possessive hand on his heart. He had his mind back, monsters and strength, and all, and yet, remembering the heat in Alec’s voice, he knew that somehow they’d make it through. And if Alec wanted to run, Jace would raise hell to fight him free.


End file.
